


Knowing and Saying

by lequeenofmoondoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Rated T for language, dean doesn't know how to handle feelings, happy holidays folks, i know this is late, super gay, thanks to my boyfriend for the unknowing idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lequeenofmoondoor/pseuds/lequeenofmoondoor
Summary: Dean knows a lot of things by the time of Christmas 2016. What he doesn't know is how to, um... Emotions? He's pretty rough with emotions and relationships. But he just has to man up and say what he's feeling. Easy enough, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! So I know this is a little late, but it was inspired by my boyfriend and I on Christmas and my eighteenth birthday. Happy Holidays and New Year to all!

Dean knew what it was like to like someone. He knew what it was like to spend the night with someone, to hold them in his arms or to be held in someone else’s arms until they both fell asleep to the sound of whispered words and promises. He definitely knew what it was like to slip out early in the morning while his partner was sleep because work, because the hunt or his father or his brother, was always calling. There was always something that kept Dean from staying, whether it was one night all the way up to one year. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down.  
What Dean didn’t know was how to be in… How to… He didn’t know how to say it. Well, of course he knew the semantics and syntax (maybe he had liked English class when he had gotten to actually go) of the word, of the phrase. He had said it to Sam when he was sick or sad, Dad when he had passed out in a drunken stupor, Mom when she was still alive. None of it, though, had ever held some kind of romantic connotation; what was Dean supposed to do, say it and put his heart out to someone he knew wouldn’t be there in a day, a month, a year? What would be the point?  
April, Peter, Cassie, Lisa, Benny (what happens in Purgatory stays in Purgatory). All of them, each one, Dean had felt an inkling of something so much larger than himself threatening to burst out and sing choir songs. Fucking choir songs! It was foreign, it was dangerous for the Winchesters’ way of life. If Dean had spent much more time thinking about it, the stupid feeling would have probably evolved into something he definitely wasn’t prepared enough for. And besides, it was all pointless in the long run: April stayed while Dean moved, Peter’s dad shipped the kid off to his grandparents’ house to straighten him out, Cassie thought that Dean was crazy or lying about all of the things that went bump in the night, Lisa couldn’t get hurt, and Benny died, got sent back to a constant fight for his life, to save Sam. Either they had to go or he did, and Dean was left to piece together the pieces of his heart alone.  
Everyone left, except for Castiel. It had been seven years since the day they had met, since Dean had learned that angels and heaven were actually real, since he had realized that there was something special about the guy standing in front of him in some dirty barn, even if he was a major douche. A hot, frightening douche who, over time, stole his beaten up heart and started to heal it.  
Even after everything that they had been through, they were still relatively okay. The rise of Lucifer, the apocalypse, Castiel’s attempt to be God and his death, leviathan, the Gates of Hell, the fall of all the angels, Dean’s Mark of Cain, and the second rise of Lucifer and the Darkness. Somehow, both boys were still standing. Yes, mistakes were made. So many fucking mistakes, too many to count. And strike him down if he was a perfect person! God, Dean took advantage of Castiel sometimes and fucked him over and was too rash and was such a deeply flawed person. But Castiel wasn’t perfect, either. C’mon, letting leviathans out?  
So it wasn’t like it was some adolescent crush that had the possibility to be some form of… That. Dean knew Castiel inside and out, right side up and upside down. And he knew, deep in his chest, that he really… Really liked Cas.  
He just had to man up and say it.  
December 25th. A brief respite from the shitstorm that was their lives. Sam had actually run out the day before and gotten a tree that was taller than he was and some cheap ornaments. Apparently, because they weren’t in a hotel or in immediate danger, it meant that they were “actually going to celebrate Christmas for once, dammit, like a family,” according to Sam. And just because Dean cared about his little brother, it also meant that he was decorating a goddamn evergreen at some ungodly hour as a personal favor.  
“Can I help at all?” came from the entrance to the library, from a scruffy angel with a deep voice and slightly messed up hair. Dean had to admit, he kinda missed Cas’s longer, wilder hair. It looked like more fun to run his hands through. “I can put the angel on top.”  
“You know, I’m pretty sure there’s a joke in there I could make,” Dean grumbled, “But yeah, you can. This is your first real Christmas with us, ain’t it?”  
Trench coat swaying as he swiftly crossed the room, Castiel picked up some flimsy angel figurine Sam just had to have. “I believe so, yes. I never really saw the point in celebrating in the manner than you do. Was I supposed to get presents? Last time I wanted to buy you something, it didn’t end very well for me.”  
The Castiel from seven years ago wouldn’t have even thought of getting either of them something. That wasn’t to say the old angel was gone. Not by any standards. Jeez, he had completely snapped at Dean the other day and reminded him of how powerful he could really be… It was kind of hot. Really hot, actually. Just as a whole, Castiel was calmer. More considerate. Someone Dean could see himself spending the rest of his short, inevitably short, life with.  
Wait, what?  
“Dean? Are you alright?”  
With that, he shook his head a little to clear it and nodded. Anything to cover up the fact that he had been thinking about.. Nothing. “Course I am. I always am, right? C’mon, you wanna come up here and stick that angel where it belongs?”  
A little shaky, he moved off of the stepstool so Castiel could actually reach the top of the tree. Dammit, Sammy, way to be an overachiever. Just like high school. And middle school. And elementary school. And forever.  
“Are you sure?” Castiel asked, stopping to pause in front of him.  
“I have no personal attachment to the angel-placing position, so knock yourself out, Cas.”  
“You know very well that wasn’t what I meant.”  
Dean sighed and nodded again. Yeah, he knew. He definitely knew that, but it wasn’t like he was just going to say, “Hey, Cas, I… Feel a lot of things for you, and I…” God, he didn’t even know how he was going to get the words out.  
“You know that you can talk to me, right?” Castiel said in an almost gentle tone, hand coming up to rest on the hunter’s shoulder. Dean wished that his heart didn’t decide to go on a fucking 5K run at that exact moment that left him feeling dizzy and breathless.  
Quickly, he nodded again. What was he, a damn bobblehead? “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I’m fine though. Totally fine. I’m going to go grab a beer.” At eight in the morning. “I’ll be right back.”  
Dean stayed in the kitchen for maybe ten minutes before taking a deep breath, going back out, and finishing decorating the tree with the angel, the man, he was too chicken to admit his feelings for.  
“You’re in love with him.”  
Dean choked on his burger and, once the danger had passed, though he really wished it hadn’t after that comment, glared daggers at his younger brother. Castiel had only just left the room, so he was praying to Chuck or whatever that by some miracle, the angel hadn’t heard it.  
“Why the fuck would you say something like that? What on earth would make you say something as stupid as that?” Dean could barely contain the rage and anxiety that as filling in the pit in his stomach.  
Sam just snickered quietly to himself. How dare he, laugh at what his brother knew was a very sensitive subject that he had struggled long and hard with. “Anyone with eyes could tell that you have a thing for him. It’s written all over your face whenever you look at him. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty surprised that Cas hasn’t figured it out yet. You should tell him tonight, in the spirit of the season!”  
“No,” the older brother growled low in his throat. He knew that if he turned any redder, he would have looked like one of the many crimson ornaments decorating the stupid tree. “No, I shouldn’t, and you shouldn’t tell him either. It’s my business and my life and my choices!”  
The second he was finished, Castiel returned with the bottle of ketchup that he was sent for; Dean could only hope deep in his soul that the whole minute long exchange wouldn’t come back to fuck him over later.  
The retribution, Sam’s retribution, he guessed, for not spilling the beans, came back in the form of a nightmare. Dean had to admit it, it was one of the worst ones he had had in months. Moments after waking up, he couldn’t remember most of what happened. Just flashes of Castiel’s leviathan eyes and regret and abandonment and Mary waving to him from the window of a burning house that always haunted his dreams and… That was all. The rest was all blurry, but what he had was enough to wake Dean up in a panic and cold sweat.  
He damn near jumped out of his skin when a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, but it was just Cas. Everything was okay, because as he came in, Castiel’s eyes were clear blue instead of black, and his features were lined with concern rather than smug hatred.  
“Dean? How are you?”  
He couldn’t even pretend like he was okay in that moment, and before he knew it, the angel had reached the bed, wrapped an arm around Dean, and laid the two of them down. Dean hesitantly rested his cheek against Castiel’s chest and sighed, breathing calming down. You know what? He was overtired, kind of out of it, and feeling like he was going to throw up, but he was going to do it. He was actually going to say it now.  
“Hey, Cas, I-I-”  
Castiel cut off the quavering voice in the darkness with his own stronger one. “I know. I know. I love you too, Dean Winchester.”  
With that, it was like a giant weight had been extracted from his stomach. Castiel loved Dean. Dean loved Castiel. It was so simple, suddenly.  
He didn’t know a lot of things. He didn’t know how to be in a stable, healthy relationship. He didn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. He definitely didn’t know what he would do with himself if Castiel ever wanted to leave too. But Dean knew two things: they would figure it out together, and he would wake up pressed against a man who loved him.


End file.
